Chi ni mamirete tamashī
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [AU pseudo-cross with Darker than Black] Outside, there's a war between contractors and humans. Inside though, there's just a war between one man and another, for there's no distinction between those caught in the webs of fate. /twincest, yaoi/


**A/N: **The only bit that crosses over from Darker than Black is the contractor (and maybe doll) business and mentions of the Hell's Gate. Since this is a different area entirely compared to the places explored in the anime (and I haven't read the manga yet so I don't know about that), the characters are also different. I don't intend to use any Darker than Black cast members in here for the sake of not putting it in the crossover section. Actually, it's more that I want to play with some of the dynamics that Digimon touched upon.

The Shinjuku highrises, for those who are unfamiliar with CLAMP, is one of the protective barriers guarding Tokyo in a sense, so it's a place of religious significance. It's also a bit of a red-light place, which makes it a place of cultural significance as well. So it seems like a good place to separate from the rest of Tokyo and make into its own little universe amidst a larger universe. In comparison, I don't think Shibuya is quite so prominent.

As for the length and nature of this chapter, following chapters will be longer and more action based. This is more of a prelude, hence why it's called the "null" chapter. For anyone who's curious, I'm planning on calling the epilogue "eternal heartbeat".

BTW, as I've said in the summary, this has twincest and yaoi (boy/boy) (which is odd for me, but this story wouldn't work otherwise), and this is M rated, but don't expect any lemon scenes from me. It's rated for other stuff: violence and themes mostly, and a little bit of psychological playabout.

And why I'm posting this up now? Because my USB has eaten too many of my WIPs, including some I had been very proud of. So I'm cleaning up for a reformat, and in the mean time posting all my in progress stuff up for you guys to enjoy. :)

And now that all that's out of the way, enjoy and tell me what you think.

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**血にまみれて魂**  
_Chi ni mamirete tamashī_

**Soul Covered in Blood**

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**ヌルハートビート**  
_Nuruhātobīto_

**Null Heartbeat**

The highrises were once again painted red, but all those who lived there had come to expect it. Shinjuku was a place after all that was swallowed by the future – one of the few in Tokyo in fact, for most other places fell back towards the past.

They were places that refused to accept the present, but all it meant in the midst of a war was that they did not recognise the blood that tainted their land. But the highrises were forever built upon that blood, from the day an earthquake had obliterated the supposedly state-of-the-art buildings to some all-shattering moment in the future. It was a place that identities were less important, where prejudices faded and everyone looked the same – or looked different if one willed. But there were no humans fighting contractors or contractors fighting humans. Instead, there were smaller wars. Darker wars. Friends destroying friends. Allies betraying allies. Enemies assisting enemies. Humans and contractors being indistinguishable save for some supernatural power granted to the other.

It was also, ironically, a place of safety and freedom, for the constantly sodden blanket of blood was also a veil that hid them from unwanted eyes. Because the NPA gave up trying to distinguish between quarrels in the highrises and weeding out the human assassins from the contractors – because, quite frankly, they couldn't afford it.

Not that Japan had the ability to distinguish between Contractors and regular humans. Russia was working on a system, as was America, however Tokyo was confident that millions of yen need not be wasted on such expenditure when their sisters in the States were concentrating on the matter. Instead, they spent their research budget elsewhere, studying the Hell's Gate and its structure. It worked as a profitable trade for both countries, as the Heaven's Gate was completely inaccessible. So Hell's Gate was explored instead, although their research, as far as the few involved knew, had yet to bear substantial fruit.

That didn't concern most people, even those involved with Contractors. Even those who knew about them, which were few in and of themselves, but enough to make secrecy impossible. For there were many syndicates at the heart of Tokyo, and for good or ill Contractors were as much a part of the nation as anyone else. Dolls were a little different; they were mostly the intelligence network, both for the police and for numerous syndicates…but the highrises were one place that had no such eyes.

The highrises was not a place for organised war, but rather the freelance variety. They had a system in place of course, to protect the anonymity of their inhabitants, and covers to drown the spread of blood that seeped into the soil from beneath white towers. Really, it had no care for the blood that tainted the land, for whatever protection it had once offered was long gone and not a soul who lived in Shinjuku believed in a God. The highrises were at the top of it all, accepting any who entered its doors and bringing quarrels only to those who brought it to themselves.

The black market, it was in a way. Except there wasn't a defined system of trading. Few sometimes did trade; there were several Contractors willing to take up a short-term contract – sometimes sealed within the hour in the same building. Then there were others simply looking for some peace. Anything that was forbidden outside four walls was welcomed by the highrises, and the law had given up attempting to exercise some control over the situation. It was, they reasoned finally, well enough for the inhabitants of Japan to have a small freedom; their wider existence became therefore easier to control.

But all that simply meant the highrises were used to being painted a crimson red. It did not mean they enjoyed it.

Nor did the people who lived there, for those truly thirsty for blood could not be tied to a single place nor did they long for a sanctuary…for no matter how black their angel's wings may be, the highrises were a sanctuary to all who survived it. The sad thing was that many did not, but even those who did not believe in God danced willingly enough to the song of fate.

In the end, the highrises were merely a cradle wrought by fate, waiting until man reshaped it into a grave.


End file.
